


Caught in His Web

by Drowned_Ophelia



Category: Pocket Monsters: Sun & Moon | Pokemon Sun & Moon Versions
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-09-08 17:04:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8853226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drowned_Ophelia/pseuds/Drowned_Ophelia
Summary: Rating will be changing to Explicit in the final chapter!
You can't stand living in an abusive household any longer. Thankfully Guzma understands what that's like and lets you join Team Skull. While adjusting to your new life you can't help but develop feelings for the man who took you in. However, the more you get to know him, the more you learn just how broken he really is.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I hope it isn't too OOC to show Guzma having a softer side towards someone in a similar situation as him. ...It only starts out that way, though!

Not long after your parents divorce your life had become a living hell. Your father moved away to some far off place, his letters to you stopping after slightly less than a year. Your mother met a man that you didn’t get along with at all. This didn’t stop them from getting married, your happiness not even remotely a concern.

Your stepfather constantly berated you every chance he got. Your grades could never be good enough, you could never do enough household chores to appease him, and he’d mock whatever you had to say the moment you opened your mouth. Your mother pretended not to notice or claim that you deserved the treatment and should try to be a better daughter.

Then your mother fell pregnant with twins. Her and your stepfather’s lives revolved around them and you were an afterthought. They were spoiled rotten and treated like angels while you were lucky if your birthday was remember. The only time you were noticed was when you were made babysitter; it happened much too often.

You became more like a maid than a member of the family. You weren’t allowed to spend time with friends because your mother and stepfather were constantly going out and you needed to keep an eye on the twins. 

It had been his idea to move to Alola as well. Here you were completely cut off from anyone you’d known and still forced to spend most of your time indoors with no way to learn about your surroundings or people there. You were living in what most would consider a tropical paradise and yet you were miserable.

Just when you were certain it couldn’t get any worse your stepfather’s abuse turned physical. As you were finally getting older and taller all the rage you had stored up inside finally became too much and you stood up to him. You were done being cooped up. Done being the one who was pretty much raising your half brothers. Done being their Cinderella. Your teenage years were being wasted and it was time for that to change. 

POW!

All it took was one solid punch to make you see stars and stagger back. He’d hit you with all of his might.

You fell hard to the kitchen floor, the twins screaming and crying, even your mother gasping and placing her hand over her mouth in shock. You scrambled to your feet when he came towards you and bolted out the door, hearing his angry yells from behind you.

This was it; you couldn’t live there anymore even though you had nowhere to go and you weren’t entirely sure of the island’s layout from being forced to live inside as an indentured servant for so long. You dashed into the nearby forest to hide, worried your stepfather was giving chase, relying on its’ cover and the fading daylight to help hide you.

It wasn’t until your stamina gave out that you came to a rest in front a large tree, sweating and heart pounding as you sat and rested your back against it. It took several minutes for your breathing to slow down as the panic at last began to subside. However, now you could really feel the pain in your right eye where you’d been punch.

You looked around. The trees were spread out enough where the moonlight could illuminate most of your surroundings, but you hadn’t paid any attention while running to make it back to your house or the nearby town even if you wanted to. What direction had you even come in? 

A bush rustled, making you gasp, but it was only a Rattata forging for food. After having no luck soon it was on its way, running out of your sight to search in other spots. You could hear the cries of other wild Pokemon close by. None of them sounded dangerous, but being out here all alone without a single one of your own made you nervous. Oh how you’d wanted a Pokemon of your own, though! Even that rite of passage had been denied to you. There were children half your age who at least had the company of one of the common types that were spotted daily on the island.

Finally the hopelessness of the situation set in and you began to cry. You pressed your face against your knees as tears ran down your cheeks. You weren’t dressed for being outside at this hour either. You may be living on a tropical island, but it still could get cold and night, and you began to shiver. Your bare skin on your legs and arms were becoming ice cold fast now that you were sitting still.

It’s not like you had anything to live for these days. Despite this you still weren’t keen on the idea of freezing to death. Absorbed in your thoughts you paid no attention to the sound of a stick breaking; you assumed it was another Pokemon and kept you head down. 

It made the sudden sound of a man’s rough voice even more terrifying when he spoke to you as he gave you a small prod with his shoe, making you jump.

“Yo, girlie! What’re doin’ out here?”

It’s hard to see now out of your swelling right eye as you look up in alarm to see a man with messy white hair, yellow glasses with a bent lens, wearing eye shadow, and a smirk on his face, gazing down at you. You’re too startled to answer, a frown quickly overtaking his features as he squats down to get a better look at you. 

You flinch away from him. He may have no issues with getting so close to your face but you’d be trying to run away if your limbs weren’t numb and your energy not completely depleted.

“Hey, who did this?” he asks, his lowered tone not doing much to ease your fears. “Your boyfriend?”

You shake your head, having a hard time getting your mouth to work. “M-my step dad,” you finally manage to answer. 

Anger flashed across his face. “He do this often?”

“It’s the first time he’s hit me, but it’s always been bad…” The man doesn’t seem like he’s interested in causing you any harm so you relax a bit. “I can’t go back home and I don’t really know where I am…”

“I was out here lookin’ for bugs and instead I find some girl… It’s your lucky day; I’m gonna let you join Team Skull.”

Your left eye widens. ‘Team Skull’?! That notorious group you’d heard about on TV that’s been terrorizing all the islands in Alola?! You look the man over once more and his gold pendant with an S in a skull design sticks out so much you’re surprised you missed it the first time.

“Then you’re…”

“Yeah, that’s right!” He seems proud to be recognized. “It’s your boy Guzma!” He extends his hand. “Come on, we got a ways to go, so let’s get goin’!” 

Joining Team Skull… This was something you’d never expected… You certainly never had an interest in joining a gang before. At this point you didn’t have much of a choice and this was the first person who’d shown any form of kindness to you in years. No matter how much you’d tried to ask for help, to drop hints when you could that you were being mistreated at home, no one seemed to care. Now this man you’d heard nothing but bad things about was offering to take you in. This wasn’t a trick, right?

He noticed your hesitation.

“I ain’t gonna bite you.”

“What do you want in return?” you have to ask. 

“Might have you do some jobs for me. Nothin’ big. Or you can just hang around the mansion, I really don’t care. Just hurry it up and decide before I change my mind.” 

You don’t even think about it; you reach out and grab his hand. He closes his fingers around yours and effortlessly pulls you to your feet as he stands up; even though he’s slouching Guzma is much taller than you. Once he sees you’re able to stand on your own he takes off his jacket and drapes it around your shoulders. Due to the size difference it’s more like a blanket as you hurry and wrap it around yourself, thanking him immediately. 

He just smirks and starts walking, glancing over his shoulder until he’s certain you’re following. You stay behind him like a duckling following their mother, worried about lagging too far behind and losing him.

“Hey, what’s your name, anyway?” He realizes he forgot to ask, repeating it once you tell him. “I ain’t so good at remembering them, but I’ll give it a shot.”

That was fine. Supposedly the amount of young people joining Team Skull was increasing, so it made sense that Guzma couldn’t remember them all individually. You’d noticed they all tended to dress the same as well, mostly likely to throw off the authorities when determining just which member of the gang was responsible for each crime. It had to also make things confusing amongst themselves as well when it came to telling each other apart.

Would you be expected to dye your hair pink and wear an outfit like that? 

You pause when you spot someone walking as the two of you exit the forest. Guzma soon stops when he notices him as well, keeping the man in his sights as he speaks to you. 

“That him?” he asks.

“No,” you answer, relieved. 

“Alright. Well, if you do see him, I’ll pound him so flat he’ll have to reach up to tie his shoelaces.”

You can’t help smiling as the two of you continue on. Honestly, that’s something you’d like to see. You’re not the type of person who could commit a physical act of violence yourself even if you could have stood a chance. Someone doing it for you, though… You wouldn’t object to it and even relish the thought of seeing your stepfather get what he deserved. 

Guzma leads you to the shore where a black boat with “Skull” on it awaits you. It’s surprisingly nice boat; quite expensive looking, in fact. However it quickly dawns on you that it was most likely stolen and then painted as Guzma saw fit. You decide not to dwell on it as you board the boat and take a seat, pulling your legs up so you can cover yourself with the jacket the best you could. It would only get colder out there on the water.

It was actually a pretty smooth ride, so you find yourself starting to feel a little drowsy, your head bobbing as you keep starting to fall asleep. Guzma must realize you’re too fatigued to talk as he stays focused on getting back to what was going to be your new home for who knows how long. 

 

It was the early hours of the morning when at last you were on land again. You felt about ready to drop, Guzma promising that you were nearly there now and you could look forward to a bed to sleep on. It would be a room with other female Grunts but, as long as they didn’t bother you, you weren’t going to be picky. 

Soon enough you could see large, impenetrable walls which seemed appropriate to help keep unwanted guests out of a criminal group’s base. 

As you were passing by a police station an older man with a prominent frown and half lidded eyes stuck his head out. He walked out to speak with the two of you, he and Guzma seeming to know each other.

“You’re bringing another one in at this hour?” the man asked.

“None of your business, geezer,” Guzma snapped. “I don’t say anything whenever you get a new Meowth. I’m just taking in a stray kitten of my own that I found.” 

The man looks you over. “Her face… Did you…?”

“I DIDN’T DO NOTHIN’!” Guzma shouts into his face. The man doesn’t even flinch, nor does his expression change, like he’s used to this behavior. He just looks back directly into Guzma’s eyes. 

“He’s helping me.” Despite being so quiet the other man is able to hear you and Guzma backs off, continuing toward the house again. “Who is that?” you ask, hurrying to his side.

“Freakin’ nosey old man Nanu. I’d chase him off too if he didn’t bring us food every once in awhile…”

Guzma leads you up to an entrance blocked by steel doors. During the day normally Grunts were around to guard the area and decide who was allowed in. At this hour, a password was needed. Staying out so late wasn’t a typical activity of Guzma’s so he takes a moment to think before inputting the code on the panel.

When it’s incorrect he balls up his fist and raises it, like he’s going to strike it out of anger, but then it’s like you can see a light bulb go off in his head as he tries again, quickly typing in a sequence of numbers. He grins when the doors open.

You peer inside and hesitate to enter. You nearly face plant when Guzma gives you what was meant to be a gentle push to your back as encouragement to progress. Were you just that tired and weak or was he that strong? Either way you manage to stay on your feet and keep going forward.

You get what he means now by saying he’d chased people off. Literally an entire town had been taken over by Guzma and the grunts. There was graffiti everywhere, not a single building had been left without at least a hint of damage, and there was plenty of garbage left around. You doubted even the Pokemon Center was operational anymore. You certainly weren’t going to be the one to tell Guzma this place had been turned into a slum. Maybe where he was taking you was nicer…?

That thought quickly proved incorrect. It may have been a mansion, but it was in just as poor of shape on the outside as any of the other dwellings. Even the swimming pool had no water in it and served as much of a garbage can as anything else.

The inside made you fear it would fall apart at any moment; just what exactly had happened here where everything was so busted up? A fight between the former residents for control? Or were most of the Team Skull members really this destructive? You noticed a hole in the wall that looked fist shaped and how on earth had they managed to yank the chandelier out of the ceiling? 

“Wait here,” Guzma said, leaving you at the entryway for only a moment before he returned with something in his hands. “’S probably too late, but you can try to get the swelling down.”

He delicately places an icepack against where you were struck and you hold up a hand to keep it in place. The relief the cold brings against the throbbing pain is instantaneous and you keep it pressed close as Guzma guides you to a room, quietly opening the door and peeking his head inside.

“There’s a free bed in there,” he whispers. “Get some sleep for now.”

“OK,” you answer. “Mr. Guzma… Thank you. No one’s been this kind to me for a long time,” your voice radiates gratitude and you’re near tears again. 

Guzma seems uncomfortable, like he’s not used to this sort of reaction from people, unsure of how to respond. He raises his hand, like he wants to pat you on the head, but thinks better of it and lowers it back down.

“Umm… Here’s your jacket back…” Although you wish that you could hold onto it you take it off and hand it to him.

Guzma puts it back. “Later.” He takes his leave, you watching him go down the corridor and up the stairs.

You enter the room to find five Grunt girls slumbering peacefully, each in a unique sleeping pose. You think it’s rather cute how one is holding a Clefairy tightly in her arms, a serene look on her face. 

They looked so threatening on TV but here, without bandanas covering their faces, they weren’t scary at all. In fact, most looked slightly younger than you. Maybe you’d be able to get along with them and finally make some friends. 

Filled with fantasies of a new start the next time you’d awaken you take up the empty bed, trying to find a comfortable way to lay on both the icepack and pillow as you dozed off. Whenever you’d awaken you’d treat your life with your “family” as just a bad dream. A guy who didn’t even know you just decided to help you out and you felt indebted to him. 

 

You were so warn out that you slept all the next day. If anyone was curious about you they must have inquired elsewhere since no one disturbed you until the morning after. 

You woke up to the sound of a female’s voice gently calling your name. You turned to see a girl about your age with haired dyed pink and yellow and wearing a Team Skull outfit that was distinctly different from what you’d seen the others garbed in. 

As if following a trend she looked and sounded unfriendly, but her words were full of concern. “Hey, I’m Plumeria. Guzma wanted me to check on you.” She cringed when she looked at your face. “He wasn’t kidding… You got jacked up.” 

The icepack had long gone warm. You brought your fingers to your face and winced; even a slight touch made it hurt.

“You ready to get up? I’ll show you around and you can get something to eat.”

Now that she mentioned it, you were starving. You sat up and saw that your very own Team Skull uniform sat on the edge of the bed. You changed into that and looked yourself over in the cracked mirror. Not to shabby! In fact, you felt a bit tougher just wearing it, getting Plumeria’s approval as well. It was too bad that nasty bruise had to take up half of your face, but it would be gone eventually. 

On the way to the kitchen a few Grunts stopped to talk to you, always so curious when a new person arrived. It felt awkward at first to explain what happened to your face, but you got over that quickly when the explanation was met with outrage or sympathy. 

It was Plumeria who wound up getting annoyed by the attention, shooing them away once she heard your stomach audibly growl. You were nearly at your destination when the two of you heard bickering going on outside. 

“That’s my Quick Claw, yo! Get your hands off of it!”

“Mine went missing few days ago! Did you take it?”

“It ain’t like that! I found it! If you’re dumb enough to lose it than finders keepers!”

Plumeria sighed and shook her head. “Kitchen’s that way,” she said as she pointed. “I have to take care of this.”

Upon entering the kitchen you were relieved it wasn’t covered in filth with bugs crawling all over and spoiled bits of leftover food laying around. There were only plastic silverware and paper plates, cups, and bowls available. More than likely dirty dishes would be piled to roof inside of the sink if they weren’t.

It was a bit past breakfast time so you found yourself alone. That suited you just fine. Everyone here seemed alright, although a bit rowdy, so having some quiet moments may wind up being few and far in-between.

Inside the freezer are some waffles and the pantry has quite a lot of brands of cereal to choose from. After selecting some fruit flavored cereal with a Toucannon on the cover you were about to pop your waffles into the toaster when you noticed one of the cupboard doors that was high above your head slightly ajar.

Curious, you grabbed a chair and stood on it to see what was inside. You were thrilled to bits to find a can of Tapu Cocoa mix and a ceramic mug with a Spinarak on it. This would be a real treat! You loved this stuff but hadn’t been able to have any in ages. 

You got some water boiling and followed the instructions to make yourself the perfect drink, sitting down at the table when at last everything was ready. It was then that a hungry male Grunt made his way inside. For a moment he seemed like he was going to greet you like the others when he sniffed the air instead and saw the mug you had.

The bandana covered his face, but the fear was obvious in his eyes. “You get that from the top shelf?” he asked in a panic.

“Yes…” you answer. What was the big deal? Plumeria had said you were welcome to anything in here.

The Grunt was actually shaking. “Yo, quick, you gotta-” He squeaked when Guzma walked in. “B-boss!” His knees were trembling so violently he looked like he was about to fall over. “S-she didn’t know! Don’t get…” He trailed off when Guzma strolled right past him and sat down across from you. 

Guzma looked like he hadn’t been awake long either. He was lacking that energy he had when you’d last seen him and his eyes were a bit droopy. The Grunt’s behavior had you nervous you’d done something wrong, though, and so you sat still and looked at him apprehensively. Out of the corner of your eye you saw the male Grunt sneak out of the room. Just what was he so scared of?

“That cocoa’s best when it’s hot,” Guzma finally. “Don’t just sit there and waste it.”

“O-OK…” 

If you were to be honest it was still a bit too hot for you; you did your best to limit how much of liquid touched your tongue with your first sip before setting the cup back down. That seemed to be good enough for Guzma.

“Good?” he asks, placing his elbow on the table and resting his chin on his hand as he looks at you.

“Very!” you answer happily.

“So that’s my personal mug and cocoa mix. Normally I get reeeeeeal mad if someone uses it, but I’ll let it slide today.” 

You feel the color drain from your face. Thank to the Grunt you can imagine just what Guzma means by “real mad”. If not for your current situation, you have a feeling that this might have wound up going very poorly for you. You thought about how Guzma almost lost his temper over inputting a code wrong; it was amazing someone with angry tendencies had felt inclined to act as he did when he found you.

“I’m so sorry! I-I swear I’ll clean the mug out really well and I’ll never touch it or the cocoa mix again! Please forgive me! Don’t throw me out!”. You fidget in your chair.

“Hey, I just said it was fine for today!” Guzma seems more awake now, sitting back and putting his hands in his pockets. “Chill out and finish your food.”

You do as Guzma says and he continues talking.

“You’re gonna clean up real nice. I thought you might look off in that uniform but it suits you.”

“Thank you; I like it.”

 

The other Grunts seemed to be amazed to find you in one piece when they saw you again. Touching Guzma’s stuff was a big “no-no” and usually resulted in a concussion. You started to worry you might see this side of Guzma someday. Still… It was actually a step up from what you’d come from.

As the days passed you stayed close by Shady House. Here you were safe, people were nice, and you were close to Guzma, your protector. You tried to earn your keep by doing some chores and felt yourself swell with glee whenever someone, especially Guzma, praised you for your efforts.

When you were finally healed up Guzma came looking for you one afternoon, finding you spending time by yourself in one of the houses in the abandoned lots. His appearance caught you off guard; from head to toe he had various places were he looked like he decided to roll around in a bonfire. The tips of his hair were singed and you could swear you saw smoke coming off of him.

“There you are!” He seemed in unusually high spirits despite looking like he must have some serious burns. “Been looking all over for you! I heard you ain’t left Po Town yet. Too scared?”

You nod. “Oh!” you say in surprise when he tosses you a Pokeball. 

“Go ahead and let ’em out.”

Just what exactly was in this ball? Obviously it was fire type. Still, your limited knowledge of Pokemon species made your imagination run wild as you assembled a fearsome beast in your mind that would bite your head off the moment it laid eyes on you. It had really done a number on Guzma, even if he didn‘t seem concerned.

You swallow hard and release the creature inside.

“ARF!” 

Instead you lock eyes with an adorable Growlithe puppy, his tail wagging and tongue hanging out. He bounds over to you and paws at your legs, obviously wanting to be picked up. When you oblige he licks your face, you unable to stop yourself from hugging him tightly. He’s so warm and soft that you never want to let go.

“He really put up a heck of a fight! Once I grabbed him he bit me and wouldn’t stop shoot’n off Embers!” Guzma sounded like he boasting. You were no Trainer, but you knew that wasn’t the typical way most people caught their Pokemon. “He should do a good job protectin’ you if you raise him.”

“You mean…”

Guzma nodded. “I caught him for you.”

You thought after the night you met Guzma you’d run completely dry of tears for the rest of your life. Now here they were, back, and running in torrents down your face. Not understanding they were happy tears Growlithe started trying to lick them off your cheeks. 

“Mr. Guzma… I don’t understand…” You were so confused. “I mean… You say it all the time… You’re “The hated boss who beats you down and beats you down and never lets up”. Why have you been so nice to me?”

Guzma’s response isn’t anything you expected. He takes off his jacket, letting it drop to the floor before your cheeks go scarlet to see him removing his shirt next. However, there’s a purpose behind it. Your thoughts about how nice his fairly muscular form looks stop abruptly when he turns to show you his back that’s covered in scars of various shapes and sizes.

“My dad did this,” he explains. “When I saw you sittin’ there…” Expressing anything but anger is difficult for him so he pauses, both embarrassed and unsure of what he wants to say. He quickly puts his shirt and jacket back on, his grin back as he turns and leans down to talk directly into your face the way he liked to do with people smaller than him. “No excuse now! Get your rear out there and do some jobs for me! Catch some Pokemon of your own while you’re at it! I ain’t gonna be soft on you no more!”

“Yes, sir!” you quickly answer. 

You have a whole new appreciation for Guzma now, feeling your fondness for him growing. He had already done so much for you it was time to start paying that back in any way you could.


End file.
